


Like Some Sort of Fairytale

by photogiraffe77



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Kagehina is so cute but so stupid, M/M, Mutual Pining, Politics, feel good fic, suga is the best advisor ever, tumblr christmas exchange, wirting Daichi as a knight was self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photogiraffe77/pseuds/photogiraffe77
Summary: "He existed in a rush of warmth, every step he took emitted radiance, a smile never leaving his lips despite his lesser status. Even his hair was as though it were kissed by the sun, a fiery mess of orange curls, bright amber eyes pinched at the corners as pure and as precious as any jewel. While small in stature, his personality and kindness knew no bounds. Everywhere he went, joy seemed to follow. Even his laugh was sweeter than any berry wine, rarer than any blood moon, more marvelous than any mountain peak. Everything about that stableboy made Tobio Kageyama, the King Regent, weak in the knees, leaving a fluttering longing in his heart."KageHina Royalty AU - one shot. Please enjoy!
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 19
Kudos: 93





	Like Some Sort of Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!! It's me again! First of all, MERRY CHRISTMAS!! This one-shot is a gift to @njess04 for a part of our #animemanga2020 Christmas gift exchange. Friend, it has been so fun getting to know you thru our anon messages and I hope this fic lives up!
> 
> It's Christmas Eve and my husband is a hospice nurse and is at work in 12 hours shifts both today (Christmas Eve) and tomorrow (Christmas Day), and I am really glad to have this fandom, this website, and all of my Tumblr friends along for the ride!
> 
> Thank you to my dear friends @bbyblake and @madampresident2032 for their help and input along the way! Y'all are the best!
> 
> Okay, I'll shut up. Please enjoy!

He existed in a rush of warmth, every step he took emitted radiance, a smile never leaving his lips despite his lesser status. Even his hair was as though it were kissed by the sun, a fiery mess of orange curls, bright amber eyes pinched at the corners as pure and as precious as any jewel. While small in stature, his personality and kindness knew no bounds. Everywhere he went, joy seemed to follow. Even his laugh was sweeter than any berry wine, rarer than any blood moon, more marvelous than any mountain peak. Everything about that stableboy made Tobio Kageyama, the King Regent, weak in the knees, leaving a fluttering longing in his heart.

To say that he was smitten was an absolute understatement, though he was doing his damndest to quell those thoughts, crush them before they could bubble and brew, mixing a wicked concoction in his brain, one composed of unbridled hope and desire. It was terrifying how affected he was by something as simple as a smile cast in his direction by a lowly servant. He was Tobio Kageyama, Crowned Prince and future King of Karasuno: he had no time for foolishness regarding the possibility of love or entertaining the notion of simple companionship. At this point, he couldn’t even keep a friend should he want one - there was too much at stake. 

Whispers of war were being spread around the palace’s marble corridors, ringing hollow and frenzied as they echoed and reverbed, panic laced into each word. 

‘ _ The prince is too young to handle the call of battle, should a declaration be passed onto us.’  _

_ ‘He won’t know what to do should Seijo invade.’ _

_ ‘How will he handle the difficulties of treaty negotiations? He isn’t the most personable of monarchs.’ _

These were among the most common phrases uttered by the disbelievers and naysayers, finding nothing but fault in their young King Regent. At the tender age of nineteen, the crown had been placed on his head, securing his position of power but also, his vulnerability for criticism. 

The current King, Prince Kageyama’s father, had fallen ill unexpectedly over the winter, and even with spring on it’s way, a vicious cough still lingered in his lungs, rendering him bed-ridden. The royal physicians warned that it was only a matter of time, and all of the Kingdom should be prepared to mourn should his health take an unpleasant turn. The advisory council clamored to a meeting, declaring that it was of the utmost importance that Kageyama takeover as King Regent, as the surrounding Kingdoms might catch word of the King’s illness and could act accordingly, prepared to pounce on Karasuno’s infrastructure while it was weak. 

Of course, their biggest concern was with Seijo and the reigning King Oikawa. Ever since his coronation three years ago, King Oikawa and his youthful longing for power had stirred apprehension in the hearts of the other kingdoms, Shiratorizowa, Fukarodani, and Inarazaki included.

During his youth, Kageyama had been trained and educated by some of their nation’s top military minds. The intensity of his schooling left little time for anything else, especially not youthful activities and frivolous hobbies. Apart from the occasional ‘play date’ he was granted with neighboring nobles, Oikawa included, he spent most of his days either studying military strategy, building his swordsman skills, or practicing archery. What use was a great mind if he was not able to protect his body, too? 

Despite his son’s rigorous training, the King still insisted that Karasuno had boasted peace for many moons, and their treaties of alliance were sealed under the weight of honor and merit. Though many had predicted that such promises of solidarity and tranquility wouldn’t hold up, as they stood on quaking legs, the King dismissed these claims. ‘Just you wait,’ he assured, ‘you’ll see. Karasuno will keep its peace no matter what.’ Still, ensuring that the young prince was in top form remained their number one priority. 

Because of this, Kageyama never had much time to make friends, or even to behave as a typical child might. This isolation and overly controlled dedication to his education heavily attributed to his awkwardness in social situations. Growing up, the dark-haired prince found solace in spending time with animals, especially the horses in the stables of the palace grounds. Never did they judge, or request him to engage in conversation, or be witty or funny or coy. Rather, he could just be in their presence and feel whole, without ever having to utter a word. 

However, within the last year, his trips to go riding had become much more complicated once a new stablehand had been assigned to look after the horses. Without even trying, the redheaded servant known as Shouyou Hinata had taken over his heart and mind, consuming his thoughts. They had exchanged so few words, as was the prince’s preference, but still, Hinata showed him kindness unbridled. And it wasn’t the sort of false kindness that came as a formality in terms of hierarchy, rather, it was genuine, and offered so freely and without expectation. Everything about the small, ginger-haired man was beautiful,

No matter how fulfilling his trips to the stables were, they had become a distraction. Kageyama forced himself to practice self-control and limit his only leisure activity, as rumors were dangerous things, capable of planting wicked seeds, sewing feelings of indignation and doubt. And that’s exactly what they did as Kageyama took to his new role as King Regent, which included long, drolling meetings with advisors and time spent locked away in his study, reviewing treaty documents, war strategies, all while still minding to the day-to-day processes brought forth by the council. 

His right hand though was Koushi Sugawara. While he wasn’t much older in age, he was incredibly wise and was filled with sage-like advice and often offered words of reassurance. The silver-haired man was Kageyama’s favorite advisor, and he felt relieved when he was able to name him ‘Hand of the King’. There were few members of the council that Kageyama trusted more than Sugawara, if any at all. 

“Haven’t you looked at those long enough?” Sugawara asked from his perch across from the dark-haired man. Kageyama had his nose buried in his work, which included scrolls that had been handed to him earlier in the day. Now the lamplight was waning, and stars littered the sky just past the tall library windows.

“You are the one who told me to study Seijo’s trade policy closely,” Kageyama commented, licking the tip of his index finger as he flicked through a yellowing page, not bothering once to lift his cobalt eyes toward his advisor. “So that is what I am doing. If there is something here that I can use as a tool to prevent war, I will.”

“Peace is always advisable, Your Grace.” Sugawara’s voice was sweet as honey, always had been. He possessed a calming quality, an ability to read people. There was a charm to him, too, a characteristic that Kageyama sorely lacked. “But so is getting proper rest.”

“I will rest when I have made my discovery.” The sound of the page-turning seemed quite loud, but in reality, it was likely just because the room was so deafeningly quiet. 

“Are you going to make time to ride your horse tomorrow, Your Grace?” 

A heat touched his cheeks, and he felt as though his whole face was on fire. He didn’t need to look up to know that Sugawara’s eyes were on him, studying, watching carefully. Making observations was all part of the job, of course. It was to the King Regent’s benefit that his most trusted confidant knew him inside and out, but it was also a bit unnerving. No sly words or passive dismissals could fool such an observant advisor. 

“Why do you ask?” Suddenly, Kageyama’s throat felt very dry, and the words felt forced from his lungs.

Sugawara crossed his arms over his slender chest and leaned into his wingback chair. “You just seem to enjoy the fresh air,” he commented cryptically, a knowing lilt lingering to his words. “You seem happier after you’ve gone for a ride.”

“Do I?” For the first time since their conversation began, Kageyama’s eyes flitted up to meet Sugawara’s gaze. The blonde man wore a hazy expression that would have been difficult to read had Kageyama not known him all of his life. There were tells, however - the impish shine in his light brown eyes, the small smirk pulling at his lips, the relaxed way he tapped his long fingers against his bicep. Sugawara knew exactly when he was asking a question for which he already had an answer, and Kageyama couldn’t help but feel slightly rattled.

“Sure you do,” Sugawara assured, now brandishing a genuine smile, “every monarch needs a pastime. Perhaps if you’re talented on a horse, one day you can lead a cavalry.” He was suggesting this knowing full well that if Kageyama saw his leisure activity as training of sorts, then he might feel more inclined to prioritize. It. 

Gently closing his book with a mild ‘thud’, he returned his advisor’s smirk. “Perhaps.” 

*

It was a fair day for a ride, the sun high in the spring sky, boasting the most beautiful blue color. A breeze touched the meadow, filtering through the young buds of leaves now dotting the branches of trees. The fields behind the castle were a paradise, untouched by the greedy hands of war. It was reserved specifically for the royal family and their most trusted company. Otherwise, it was completely off-limits. In the entirety of his short life, it was the one place Kageyama could find reprieve from the burdens of his duties.

He couldn’t stay out long, despite the fact he was on strict orders by his Hand. Not that Sugawara was his superior because that was certainly far from the truth. However, the petite, ashen-haired man possessed an authoritative tone to his voice that not even the King Regent would dare to ignore. Sometimes, it was just easier to abide by his ‘suggestions’. It was much simpler than a lecture.

According to the height of the sun, Kageyama would be due to head back soon. He wasn’t really alone on his ride, not even while on palace grounds, though his royal guardsman did his best to keep at a far enough distance to offer him even the faintest illusion of privacy. Sawamura was of noble blood and good man, and while his skills with a sword were unmatched, his sharp, calculating eyes were perhaps the most impressive thing about him. It was of great comfort to know that he was just a few meters behind, seated on his own horse, ready to serve and lay down his life, should the occasion call.

It wasn’t lost on Kageyama why Sugawara was so insistent about his ride today. Yes, being out in the open, in the fresh air, and away from the stuffy monotony of the palace was part of it, but not the eternity. Sometimes, his Hand was far more observant than Kageyama cared to admit.

“Your Grace.” The deep, familiar voice that accompanied the rhythmic pounding of hoofs into soft earth pulled Kageyama from his temporary reverie, forcing him to snap his head forward.

“Your Grace,” Sawamura repeated once he was just a bit closer, curling his thick fingers around the leather reigns of his horse. “Would you like to head back? Sugawara told me that you have a meeting with the council again before dinner.”

Reluctantly, Kageyama sighed. His moment of tranquility had come to an end, but even that couldn’t quench the writhing excitement in his stomach at the realization he was heading back to the stables. Only one man saw to the personal care of his beloved horse, Mikasa, and that man just so happened to be the object of his hidden affection.

“Yes, let’s return.”

Dutifully, Sawamura followed his King Regent as they rode the short distance back to the stables. Sure enough, as faithful and trustworthy that the sun would rise in the east and set in the west, Hinata was waiting on them, a wide smile plastered on his cherub face.

“Greetings, King Kageyama,” he offered with a heartfelt bow, “and Sir Sawamura. How was your ride?”

Kageyama couldn’t even look at him as he dismounted his saddle, wholly unable to. He was too afraid at what his expression might give away, what those wide, amber eyes might read into. 

“Fine,” he commented stiffly, taking a moment to pat his black horse on her thick neck. 

“Did Mikasa behave strangely, Your Grace?” Hinata inquired, taking a step closer to his King. From beside them, Sawamura regarded the scene, having just dismounted his own steed. 

Eyebrows furrowed at that question, Kageyama taking the time to face Hinata. One thing that the dark-haired King Regent found admirable about the stableboy was that he always looked him in the eye. Many of the other servants in the palace made it a habit to stare down at their feet while engaging the royal family in conversation, but not Hinata. Others would find it disrespectful, but for whatever reason, it made Kageyama’s heart pound loudly in his chest.

“No. Is something wrong with her?” She hadn’t behaved any differently during the ride, but it had been several weeks since he had been able to properly take her out. 

Hinata tapped his index finger thoughtfully to the lips that Kageyama definitely, totally, didn’t want to kiss, pink and supple as delicate rose petals. “Not particularly, it’s just that she seemed rather down lately. I have been taking her out with the lead rope, but that hasn’t done much for her spirits.”

“Perhaps she has been cooped up too long in the stables, Your Grace, and she could benefit from a more frequent ride.” The broad knight’s words mirrored those of his trusted advisor, and Kageyama couldn’t help but let out a small ‘ _ tch _ ’ at the remark. He knew his advisor and guard had his best interest at heart, but it was easier to use his workload as an excuse to avoid the stable. 

He  _ was _ busy, actually, and had a lot on his mind. He certainly wasn’t avoiding the barn because he was harboring strange, warm feelings for the small, ginger-haired boy in his presence. The very idea would be preposterous. 

“Perhaps,” was all Kageyama offered, tone dry as he ran his fingers through the soft, black hair of his horse’s mane, “now that the weather is improving, so should her spirits.”

“Sage words, Your Grace,” Sawamura said with a nod, dark eyes shining.

“I will continue to keep her in good care, Your Grace” Hinata offered another bow.

“That you will,” he replied, voice dry, turning on the heel of his leather riding boot, heart hammering in his chest, not bothering to look back over his shoulder, as much as he wanted to.

*

Hopefully, Mikasa’s spirits were improving because Kageyama’s certainly weren’t. The tedium of his duties remained unchanged, scraping and laborious, and all the while, the young King Regent felt no closer to understanding why his elder council members believed that Seijo was on the heels of war. Even Sugawara agreed with him, stating it was unlikely. Sure, Karasuno’s morale was weakened due to his father’s state, and Seijo had a young leader themselves, but not every new, budding monarch was bubbling with bloodlust. He could not deny that it was important to be prepared and vigilant, but allowing the fear of war to be suspended by such a weak thread seemed rather irresponsible and a total waste of resources and energy. To Kageyama, there were more pressing matters going on within Karasuno, real issues that called for his immediate attention. He didn’t want fear to dictate the very beginning of his reign.

“What is your advice, Sugawara?” Kageyama inquired finally, seated at his desk. Only a few days had passed since that last ride in the meadow, but it felt more like years. The ash-blonde was seated across from him, as per usual, nose buried in his own book. This one wasn’t research-related, however, if the small smile pulling at his lips was any sort of indication. In fact, based on the title engraved on the spine, it appeared to be a romance novel.

“Pardon?” he asked, uncharacteristically lost on himself. He pulled his cheek away from where it had been propped on his open palm, the touch leaving a little red spot on his porcelain skin. 

Kageyama couldn’t bring himself to chastise his Hand. Sugawara had been so painstakingly dedicated to his King that it was obvious he was growing weary. From sunrise to well after sundown, Sugawara was at his side, bringing him whatever he needed. There were servants present, sure, but Sugawara seemed adamant about doing things himself. If he didn’t know any better, Kageyama might call it all a bit maternal in nature, in the best way possible.

“I feel like I’m running in circles,” Kageyama admitted, tossing his book onto the table, letting it fall to a close without marking his spot. “I feel as though this is all so… pointless.” He sighed, exasperated, bringing his hands up to scrub at his face. Night had fallen a few hours ago and the pair had taken their meal in the library, as usual, their empty plates and bowls pushed toward the edge of the table. “They want me to be ahead of an attack and keep myself on my toes but for what?”

“You feel as though you’ve been given busy work?” Sugawara asked for clarification, crossing his legs, hands folding gracefully over his knee.

Kageyama blinked heavily, trying to gather his thoughts. That was his speculation to the letter though it felt treasonous to come outright and say that. He just felt that it was one thing to be prepared but it was another to look for problems that weren’t there.

As though he could read Kageyama like the war books sitting open between them, Sugawara said, “then you should just clear the air.”

Sitting up, Kageyama let his cobalt eyes search his Hand’s brown ones, eager for elaboration. To that, the ash-blonde smiled softly. “Perhaps you should invite King Oikawa to the palace. You have not formally met together since both assuming your respective crowns, after all. I believe the last time you were together face-to-face was when you were barely teenagers.”

That wasn’t the worst idea, in terms of ensuring that he could finally put the speculations of war to rest, however…

Sensing his King’s discomfort, Sugawara added, “you never know, Your Grace, he could be different now. I know he was jealous and abrasive and a bit of a bully when you were younger, but time has passed. Responsibilities change a person, and usually for the better.”

Kageyama could only hum at that thought. “Maybe, Sugawara.” His answer lacked confidence though. King Oikawa wasn’t a bad man, he was just very mouthy and a bit boisterous. Their last meeting had been about four years ago when Kageyama was fifteen and Oikawa was eighteen. It hadn’t gone well, to say the least. Their fathers put them up to an archery competition, as well as a horse race. Kageyama had won them both by a wide margin, despite their age difference, and this left the other prince reeling and angry. He vowed he’d win next time if ever given the chance. 

That memory made Kageyama swallow thickly. Maybe King Oikawa really  _ did  _ want war as a means for revenge. He was certainly petty enough for it.

“Should I draft up a formal invitation for a feast? Or would you rather it be a ball?” Sugawara already had an inkwell and quill at the ready, a blank roll of parchment spread out before him, awaiting permission to proceed. 

“I think a feast would be best,” Kageyama commented. “I don’t dance.”

*

Restless nights were no stranger to Kageyama, not anymore. He had visited his father earlier in the day, and that proved to only further weaken his morale. It appeared as though the older man’s condition had worsened some, and physicians still had no answers as far as a cure. Granted, while they were still trying to come up with a suitable treatment, they only continued to fall short.

Though the King’s health was poor and failing, as made evident by his clouding eyes and pale skin, his spirits remained high. It was just the same as it was before he had become ill. This had filled the young King Regent with hope that his father would yet recover. He absolutely had to- Kageyama couldn’t do it without him.

The middle of the night was the ideal time to slip away, as Sir Sawamura was usually resting and another guard would fill his place for the duration. Sawamura was the best by far, with keen eyes and sharp hearing, making sneaking out nearly impossible. However, Kageyama was just clever and stealthy enough to slip unnoticed past his second-rate fill-in. So that was exactly what he did, capitalizing on the fact the replacement sentinel wasn’t quite as perceptive as Sir Sawamura. 

Unsurprisingly, his feet carried him through the unoccupied kitchens, out the servant door, and into the adjacent courtyards. The moon spilled white light over the gardens, turning the young blades of grass a deep shade of blue, making it appear as though it were actually the surface of the cold, tranquil ocean, despite their kingdom being miles from the closest shoreline. Around him, very little life stirred, the only sounds being the quiet crunch of his leather boots to the earth and the whisper-like thrum of insects in the foliage. 

After a few minutes of walking the practiced path, Kageyama finally arrived at his destination: the horse stables. The lanterns were still lit on either side of the wooden doors, glowing a rich amber that contrasted the night air. Keeping on as stealthy as he could, he sidled over the half-gate, his height working to his advantage. As the toe of his boot touched the soft straw, he breathed a sigh of relief: he had made it to his destination unnoticed by guards or anyone else. Not that he would be scolded or chastised, per se, but he wouldn’t be left alone, and that was all he truly desired. He needed a moment away from the castle, away from the watchful eyes of his guards and his advisors, a quick second to truly breathe and hear the sound of his own thoughts.

As discreetly as possible, he padded across the stable floor, the pliant dirt and straw shifting beneath each step. Mikasa was housed in the last stall at the right, near the back of the enclosure. As he passed the other horses, they all seemed to be asleep, their quiet breathing and little grunts and tiny whines indication that they were dreaming. It was all very soothing, to feel as though he were the only human soul in the building, as horses cared not for titles and reputations; they only saw a human for their heart and nothing else. In the presence of animals, he was merely a man with a desire to give love and affection; he wasn’t a King Regent facing impending war and an ailing father. He was just a nineteen-year-old boy looking for something to connect with, to care for, to offer love to.

The thought that he was alone was comforting, which was why he was incredibly surprised to find that Mikasa was not, in fact, the only creature in her stall. Nestled in next to her solid field of black was an unruly tuft of orange, burning and bright, a stark juxtaposition next to her dark hair. The other presence caught Kageyama off guard, sending him stumbling back, causing him to land on his rear as he tried to stifle the gasp that fled his lips.

“Hello?” called a voice, one he recognized, so beautiful and rich and warm, even when it was laden so heavily with sleep. Out of fear, Kageyama opted not to call back, frantically thinking of a plan. He could not be left alone in the stable with the object of his infatuation. Surely, escape was his only option. If he got up and ran, would he get away unnoticed? Or would he be caught? The embarrassment burned his cheeks and stuck in his lungs.

Just as he went to push himself up and follow through with running away, he heard his name. “K-King Kageyama?” stuttered Hinata, squinting his eyes in the low light. “Your highness, is that you?”

Defeatedly, the brunette let out a huff. “Yes,” he answered, dark blue eyes finding the floor as the blush worked through his whole body. He was grateful for the veil of darkness, as it would hopefully hide just how flustered he was.

“Are you alright?” Hinata asked, craning his neck over the wooden stall door. “Do I need to get someone or--”

“No!” Kageyama growled, the response a little louder and more forceful than intended, a consequence of his bruised ego. “Don’t call anyone.”

“Oh, okay,” the red-head offered slowly, clearly taken aback by the ferocity of the young King’s insistence. 

_ Damn it _ , Kageyama thought,  _ I’m screwing this up before I even have a real chance.  _ Never had he been alone with the stableboy before. Sir Sawamura or Sugawara were always with him, their presence forcing Kageyama to act in a manner expected of royalty. But now that his two most trusted companions weren’t here, he had no idea what sort of rude, blunt statement might fall out of his mouth. He hadn’t the faintest idea of how to behave in front of Hinata, especially not while these feelings lingered in his bones and burrowed deep within his heart. 

“May I help you up?” the stableboy inquired, unlatching the stall door and stepping out. From behind him, Mikasa whinnied lightly, as though acknowledging that Hinata was leaving. “I’ll be right back, girl,” he promised the horse as the gate latched behind him.

Kageyama watched in stunned regard as the small man proffered his hand, a smile on his face. “May I help you up, Your Grace?” he repeated when no answer came.

Unwilling to behave  _ too  _ brutishly again, he let out a muted  _ ‘tch _ ’ before grudgingly accepting the assistance. Rising to his feet, Kageyama was made all the more aware of just how much larger he was than the ginger-haired boy. They were so close to one another there in the low lamplight. Even when his hair was messy, stray pieces of straw bedding clinging to his orange curls, he looked beautiful, and it took the King Regent’s breath away. 

“T-thank you,” he stuttered out, voice a bit shaky as their hands still stayed molded together, bridging the gap between them, connecting them in a way they had never been before. It was a fairly standard gesture, but since no one ever dared to touch the King outside of a quick, obligatory, handshake, it made the sensation all the more overwhelming and addicting, causing the elongated interlacing of their hands to feel intimate where it normally wouldn’t. Hinata’s touch was warm and calloused, hardened from a lifetime of manual labor, though this fact did nothing to deter how absolutely wonderful it felt. 

“Are you alright?” Hinata asked, keeping his voice low, making no move to break them apart. Their hands remained between their midsections, molten amber eyes locked on cerulean blue.

Feeling the emotion swell thick in his throat, Kageyama whispered softly, and a bit breathlessly, “yes.”

“You’re not hurt?”

“No.”

“Good,” the young man responded, smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes creased. Finally, he made a motion to move his hands away, and reluctantly, Kageyama followed his lead. “What are you doing out here, Your Grace?”

Ah, there it was: the question he was hoping to not have to answer. Sheepishly, the King pawed at the back of his neck, idly running his hands over the fine hairs at his nape. “I go for a walk sometimes at night.” He knew the answer was vague, but he assumed the stableboy wouldn’t pry further.

His assumptions were incorrect. “A walk?” He cocked an orange eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side. “Can you not sleep?”

Acting on instinct to hide any weaknesses, he shook his head. “Of course not, I can sleep just fine,” he snapped with a bit more force than intended. “A King can walk his own palace grounds without question from a servant.” It was a defense mechanism, an act, a way to protect himself when Sawamura wasn’t around. Hinata didn’t deserve such treatment, but Kageyama couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

“Oh,” Hinata said quietly, toeing softly at a little pile of straw by his foot. He wasn’t wearing shoes, the King noticed, and his tiny feet were dirty, caked in mud. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept questioning you, Your Grace.”

“Where are your shoes?” 

“Pardon?” Surprised, Hinata looked up, meeting that intimidating gaze once more. “My shoes?”

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

The redhead let out a soft giggle. “Do nobles wear shoes when they sleep, Your Grace?”

Scrunching his face in an attempt to appear offended, Kageyama replied, “no, we don’t. That would be stupid.”

“Well, the same goes for me! I don’t wear shoes when I sleep, either.”

Kageyama looked around, suddenly realizing that Hinata was  _ sleeping  _ out here. “Why are you sleeping in the horse stall? Don’t you have a room in the servant’s quarters?” The palace paid every servant a small wage as well as provided room and board. It wasn’t the most extravagant of places, though improvements had been made over time. That was one of the things Kageyama sought to rectify once officially being crowned: a cleaner, more adequate living space and better pay for those who worked at the palace. If only he could quit focusing on a war that wasn’t likely going to happen, it would free up more time for him to focus on such endeavors. 

“Yeah, of course,” Hinata murmured a bit diffidently, curling and uncurling his toes in the dirt, an action that appeared to be a nervous habit. “It’s just… a bit crowded, is all. And I like being with the animals.”

“You really like Mikasa.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Of course I do!” He snapped his head back up, eyes wide and brimming with adoration. “She’s my favorite! I adore her.”

“Why?”

Hinata fell uncharacteristically quiet at that inquiry, cheeks turning scarlet. Before he could squash the thought, Kageyama mused that Hinata looked especially lovely with that carmine color ruddying his boyish face. It added to his youthful glow, making him all the more charming and impish. 

“Well?” The King Regent pressed further, eager for an answer.

“She is your favorite horse, Your Grace,” Hinata answered softly. “I want to take great care of her. I have heard whispers around the palace that you are very stressed and busy with your new role, so you can’t ride her as much.” The stableboy swallowed thickly, folding his hands in front of his torso, fiddling idly with his fingers. Kageyama fought down the desire to hold them, to weave their hands together once again. “And I don’t want Mikasa to get sad, nor do I want you to worry about one more thing. I know it probably sounds foolish or silly, but this is just one way that I feel like I could get closer to you, Your Grace.” There was a long pause before Hinata added, “all I want is for you to find a little joy.”

At that comment, Kageyama felt his heart lurch in his chest, his knees quaking underneath of him. That was the kindest thing anyone had said to him in all of his days, the sheer thoughtfulness of the gesture was truly unmatched. The stableboy could be sleeping soundly indoors, in a bed, albeit, probably not the best one in the Kingdom, but surely softer than a pile of hay. And his whole reasoning behind it was not for pay, or even simply out of duty. It was out of  _ kindness _ . A desire to remove one thing from the King’s rapidly filling plate, so when he came to ride, that’s all he had to worry about. 

It was absolutely selfless, and Kageyama thought he could only hope to emulate such altruism one day.

“Hinata--” the King started, though he was interrupted by the heavy sounds of footsteps approaching the barn and his name being called in the distance. The taller of the two boys whipped his head toward the barn gate. “Shit, it’s Sir Sawamura.”

“Are you not supposed to be out?”

“I can be out wherever I want!” Kageyama hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m the King Regent.”

Hinata stifled a giggle behind his hand. “Then why are you whispering?”

Unable to come up with a retort, Kageyama shooed him with his hand. “Be quiet and let me think.”

Thankfully, his calls for silence were ignored. “We should go up.” Hinata pointed toward the ladder across from Mikasa's stall. “We can hide in the loft.”

“The loft?” Kageyama questioned, but before he could receive an explanation, Hinata’s hand was around his wrist, dragging him in the direction of the ladder.

“Hey what are you--” 

A bright smile flashed across the stableboy’s lips. “Quiet or he’ll hear us!” Releasing his hold on the King, he instead latched onto the first rung of the ladder. It was suspended partway from the ceiling, not wholly touching the ground. Even with his short stature, Hinata was able to do a quick hop and use his upper body strength to pull him upward until his bare foot touched the bottom wrung. Without further adieu, he wordlessly and effortlessly scrambled upward, not looking back to see if he was being followed. 

Kageyama didn’t delay, starting his own ascent once Hinata was far enough up that the young King could join him on the ladder. It was a fast scramble upward, the brunette doing his best effort to keep his boots from making too much noise. Once he breached the top, Hinata grabbed him again, pulling him onto the hardwood floor. It was a bit dusty and dingy, but despite that, the view from the loft was beautiful. Toward the King’s right was the perfect bird’s eye view of the stables, giving him the ability to look down into every stall, offering a clear view of the entrance. To his left, the square loft door was open, the moonlight cutting through, bathing both boys in iridescent white. The loft was very close to the roof, however, so neither man could comfortably stand even if they wanted to. Instead, they were forced to remain kneeling, watching as Sir Sawamura did, in fact, enter the stable.

“Your Highness?” His familiar, deep timbre was soothing, though tinged with worry, and realistically, Kageyama knew he should call out to his knight, informing him that he was safe. But there was taboo to it all, something a bit exhilarating in hiding out, even if it was just a touch childish. 

The pair laid shoulder to shoulder, stomachs pressed against the dirty floorboards, forcing their breathing to remain quiet. Kageyama wondered if Hinata’s heart was beating as fast as his. He wouldn’t be in trouble, not really, only given a mild scolding on the trek back to the palace. Sugawara would probably have a few things to add in the morning, too, but that was a bridge he was willing to cross once he got there.

“Your Highness?” Daichi’s voice was louder now as he approached the back of the barn, eyes scanning into the various horse stalls as he passed. Finally, he arrived at Mikasa’s, seemingly surprised that the dark horse was standing up, head poking over her stall door. Sawamura patted her snout. “Hey girl,” he cooed, running his fingers gently up and down her long nose. “Have you seen that rascal King Regent of ours?”

Haughty, Kagayema snorted, but Hinata elbowed him, reminding him to be quiet. The knight seemed to catch onto the noise, as he stopped and turned around, eyes peeling across the room. “Your Highness?” he called out, much more tentative this time.

“Daichi!” called a second familiar voice, this time, the tenor call belonging to none other than his trusted Hand, Sugawara. The ashen-haired advisor shuffled into the barn, pulling his night coat closer to his slender frame. “Have you found him yet?”

Daichi turned to greet the other man, a weary look gracing his handsome face. “I haven’t. I assumed he would be in here.”

Sugawara frowned, letting out a little huff. His hair was a bit messy and he was still dressed in pajamas. He looked as though he had hastily thrown on shoes and a coat, and for that Kageyama felt a pang of guilt. Unintentionally, he had dragged his very overworked advisor out of his warm bed to join an impromptu search party. Odds were high that the ash-blonde was worked up, unwilling to rest until his King was found safe..

“Damn,” he sighed, leaning against Daichi’s side, the knight wrapping one arm around the advisor’s narrow shoulders. “I am just worried.”

“He’s nineteen,” Daichi reminded his companion. “Boys that age sneak around from time to time.”

“We never did,” Suga chortled. This comment earned him a jab to the ribs, eliciting a squeak Kageyama had never heard from the older man. “Daichi!” he whined.

“Who are you trying to lie to?” Daichi asked in earnest, repositioning himself so two large, formidable hands rested on either side of Sugawara’s hips. “Back when we were in training, we slipped out here every chance we could to quite  _ literally _ roll in the hay.”

It was Sugawara’s turn to scoff. “Daichi, quiet!” Sugawara scolded, turning his head away, a blush evident on his cheeks even from such a distance. However, Daichi kept a firm latch on the advisor’s midsection, using his brute strength to pull Sugawara in for a kiss, planting one sweetly on his pale cheek. This caused the Hand to gasp. “Daichi, you shouldn’t start things you can’t finish,” he warned, a low growl to his words.

“You’re right,” Daichi agreed, bending down to press his forehead in the crook of Sugawara’s neck. “We need to find the King.”

“I’m sure you’re probably right about his whereabouts,” Sugawara offered, pressing a kiss of his own into the crown of Daichi’s head. “But let’s keep looking.”

“Okay,” the knight agreed, reaching out his hand. Sugawara took it, and the pair walked and hand in hand back to the entrance.

“We have to let go once we reach the door.”

“I know,” Daichi acknowledged. “That’s why we should walk a little slower.”

“Always the romantic.” 

The duo paced themselves, their speed slow and deliberate. Kageyama watched with wide eyes as the pair shared a tender kiss before releasing hands and exiting the stable, resuming their search. After a few moments had passed, Kageyama let out a heavy breath, trying to process what he had just witnessed.

How long had…?

“I didn’t know they were together,” Hinata whispered from his spot next to the King, still keeping his voice low despite the fact they were alone once more. It was clear that he was just as awestruck as Kageyama.

Moving to sit up on his rear, Kageyama pulled his knees toward his chest. “Me either,” he admitted, wracking his brain. Never had he noticed any signs that might point to his Knight and his Hand being in a relationship. Not that he minded at all, of course, so why did the pair keep it a secret? Both were of nobility, both lived in the palace and served the royal family, both were free to marry. Should they request permission to wed, surely Kageyama’s father would grant it. Or maybe they were waiting to ask Kageyama himself, once he had the official title. Kageyama wouldn’t put it past the pair to hold off until things had settled down, so as to not distract them from their duties. At that thought, he felt a pang of guilt, given where he was hiding and who was out looking for him in the middle of the night.

“Have you ever seen two people kiss like that?” Hinata asked, startling Kageyama from his thoughts. No, he hadn’t, not really. His mother died when he was very young, and his father never took another wife. Rather than explaining that, though, he only shook his head.

“It looked nice,” the redhead murmured, voice soft. 

His heartstrings pulled taut at that comment, like the cable of a well-maintained bow. For many moons, he had harbored in his chest a sort of feeling that he had trouble placing, as it was so very foreign, something he had never touched before. He was as foolish as he was youthful, a boy barely a man, and not yet a king. Who was he to ponder too deeply on what may or may not be the makings of love? 

“It did,” Kageyama replied, a dusting of pink rising to his cheeks, the soft skin clinging to an infinitesimal final layer of baby fat. He swallowed heavily in his throat and did his best to not let his thoughts wander.

*

Upon returning to his chamber just shortly after they had caught the Hand and the court knight engaged in a kiss, Kageyama received an earful. Yes, he was the King and he was free to walk his own grounds. However, due to the absence lasting several hours, palace officials began to fear a kidnapping. Sheepishly, Kageyama had to admit that he had simply wanted some alone time. Sugawara seemed empathetic to that comment, but still couldn’t contain his lecture. When interrogated, the brunette couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was hiding in the hayloft of the barn with the stableboy - that would be far too embarrassing and risk even more questions. Instead, he told a white lie, saying he was simply in the gardens taking a stroll. No one seemed to really buy that story, but thanks to their busy schedules, neither the Hand nor the Knight fought it. A second guard was added to the night shift, and so ended any future rendezvouses to the stables. 

This was both relieving and disappointing, all in the same breath. The duality of his desires was exhausting, and being forced in one direction was somewhat comforting. Even if it wasn’t what he truly wanted, it didn’t matter. He had too much to focus on, including the meeting with Seijo.

After the letter was mailed out, it took barely two quick weeks for a reply to come from King Oikawa, the response arriving promptly via a horseback carrier. Not that their kingdoms were too far apart to begin with. Should they accept the offer to meet, the visitors from Seijo simply needed to take the well-maintained road that connected the two nations. With an entourage of caravans, the travel would be about two to three weeks, tops.

“He demands it be a ball,” Sugawara reported, unrolling the scroll that had been delivered by the royal courier. The messaged had been sealed shut by a teal wax stamp embolden with an ornate ‘S’. “King Oikawa won’t accept a feast alone. He also insists to be entertained.”

It was unsurprising, truly. The King of Seijo was renowned for being a bit of a pain, shameless in his endeavor to be high-maintenance. Everyone said that his elitist mentality was merely for show and that at the end of the day, the beautiful brunette was a kind-hearted ruler, but Kageyama refused to believe it. They had been acquaintances since they were very young, and the older boy seemed to cling to some sort of malice or strife in regards to the Karasuno monarch. Thinking back, Kageyama couldn’t really account for what he could have done, aside from winning the horseback riding and archery competition in their youth. As far as he was concerned, Oikawa’s attitude was completely unmerited.

“You’re not replying,” Sugawara said, a bemused expression on his otherwise angelic face. As of late, Kageyama had struggled to maintain eye contact with his Hand, too afraid he’d fall back into the memory of the surreptitious kiss he and Sir Sawamura had shared in the dimly lit stable. Not out of embarrassment, at least, not completely. There was a fear that should he linger on the memory too long, his thoughts would fall onto the Hinata and his own desire to kiss the stableboy with the same delicate fervor they had witnessed together. 

In the two weeks since that fated night in the hayloft, all the King Regent could think of was orange hair, kissed by fire, and pale skin, as though blessed by the waning light of the moon. He wanted to see Hinata again, more than anything. But if there was one thing for certain in this lifetime, it was that desire bred distraction, and if he were to earnestly try to follow in his father’s noble footsteps, then he had to put his own kingdom first. He would not stand idly by while his people suffered, all so that he could feed his own selfish wants and wills. For the time being, Hinata had to take a back burner. Perhaps one day, Kageyama could pursue his love interest, though that day seemed a very long way off.

“I am thinking,” Kageyama replied finally, fingers tracing the faded spine of a book. Staring at the words was proving useless; he was not absorbing the information whatsoever, only mindlessly and listlessly scanning over the black markings. 

“Now that’s a terrifying revelation,” Sugawara teased, a light-hearted glint in his eyes. The longevity of their relationship had effectively dismantled whatever filter customarily existed between a monarch and his Hand; Kageyama had made it abundantly clear, time and time again, that the ashen-haired man would be treated like a friend and an equal. To this date, Sugawara had never done a thing to betray or overstep their casual, unorthodox arrangement.

“We have to do it, don’t we?” Kageyama asked finally, fearful of the answer he knew was coming.

Sugawara hummed. “I am afraid so.” 

An expletive left his mouth right as Sir Sawamura entered the study, a look of concern crossing his handsome features. “Is everything alright?” the knight inquired, edging into the room with an investigative eye, as was his nature.

“Daichi!” Sugawara greeted, a look of absolute adoration passing over him. “Welcome, come on in. We are discussing our plans for the ball.”

Should he have blinked, Kageyama would have likely missed the zealous veneration present in his smile. Secretly, Kageyama always thought that his Hand was a beautiful man, all smokey silver hair and long pewter lashes, boasting a beauty mark gracefully kissed in the corner of his copper toned eyes. It made him immeasurably happy to think that such a kind-hearted and illustrious creature had taken to such a dedicated man of valor. 

“A ball?” Sir Sawamura inquired with a soft chuckle, stepping further into the study. “What is the occasion?”

“We invited King Oikawa for a feast, but he is insistent on a full blown soiree,” Sugawara explained. The King Regent watched with careful reverence as the Knight pushed closer to the Hand, their shoulders almost touching, though they remained just far enough apart to be convincing.. 

“We haven’t had a proper ball in quite some time.” The Knight’s words were true - Kageyama couldn’t recall when last they celebrated with such a bombastic festivity.

“What are your thoughts?” 

The knight considered the question for a moment prior to answering. “Well,” he began, “I think it would liven the place up quite a bit. And Iwaizumi owes me a proper spar.”

“You could spar even without a ball,” Sugawara pointed out with an annoyed roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, but why not do it in our best outfits?” 

“Fair point,” the ash-blonde conceded, turning his attention back to his King Regent. “What do you think, Your Grace?”

Cobalt eyes blinked, considering. “I don’t know how to dance.”

The mischievous, ‘cat who got the cream’ look on Sugawara’s face should have been a tell-tale sign of what was to come next. “Not to worry, my King,” offering the title only in an attempt at further guile, “I will make all the necessary arrangements.”

*

He should have known better. 

For all of his years of experience with Sugawara, for all that he knew about the Hand and just how clandestine and furtive he could be, he should have known better. Perhaps in a previous life, the ashen-haired beauty had been a magician, card tricks up his sleeve in abundance, always pulling out the next big show. Or even better yet, maybe he had been a con-man, using smooth speech while batting flirtatiously thick lashes in order to swindle some poor soul out of all of their money. 

Either way, Kageyama should have known better.

“I don’t see why you’re angry, Your Grace,” Sugawara explained from the edge of the magnificent ballroom, staring into his King Regent’s flushed and bothered face, completely unphased by his monarch’s distress. “You said you didn’t know how to dance and I made the perfect accommodations. You agreed to it.”

“I didn’t agree to  _ this _ !” he wheezed through clenched teeth in an attempt to keep his voice down. The last thing in the world he wanted was to offend his dance partner.

Okay, maybe it was the  _ second _ to the last thing. The actual last thing he wanted was to have this particular visitor as a dance partner at all. There was no way he could keep his feelings in check should they stand in such close quarters while partaking in such an intimate activity.

“Your Grace.” Sugawara was using that tone again, that perfectly pitched tenor he offered as a means to placate visiting dignitaries and their courtisens. It was practiced, rehearsed, and so very easy to the ears. In addition, the Hand reached out to gently touch the King Regent on his shoulder, which was now trembling from anxiety. “I thought you would enjoy this.”

Every fiber of his being wanted to yell out,  _ ‘no! Why would I enjoy this? _ ’. But despite his social flaws and other humanistic shortcomings, Kageyama was anything but a liar. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could lie right now to his Hand, his most trusted advisor, and closest friend. So instead, he pushed the heel of his hand against his eye, a feeble attempt to stave off the impending headache.

Sensing his superior’s discomfort, Sugawara offered a word of encouragement. “Just talk to him like you do anyone else, and things will be fine.”

For not for a single second did Kageyama believe that piece of advice, but unwilling to argue, he turned and made his way back to the main part of the lavish hall, the pristine granite echoing with each tentative step of his feet. With an oppressive anxiety, he approached his dance partner.

Sugawara had invited Hinata, of all people, to help him learn how to dance. And who was leading today’s lesson? None other than the Hand himself, the son of a nobleman who was taught in the most prestigious of academies, trained to be a court consultant from the very beginning. Families like the Sugawaras were bred for the purpose of serving the royal family, raised to be the finest of diplomats and bureaucrats, teaming with social graces and court talents. And Koushi was among the very best of the best. How else could he be named ‘The Hand’ at such a young age?

“I hope my being here hasn’t offended you, Your Grace.” Hinata offered a sincere bow as the King Regent approached. The candor in his voice was almost too much to handle.

Kageyama stifled off the urge to wrap him up and kiss him.

“It’s fine,” he offered gruffly, doing his best to maintain an air of disinterest, despite the relentless gnawing at his rapidly racing heart. It felt like the night in the hayloft all over again, but all the more intense considering his feelings had copious time to ruminate and fester, leaving him without a chance of escape.

“Your Grace, as you well know, many of your dance partners at the ball will likely be shorter than you given your above average stature.” Kageyama fought the impulse to roll his eyes at that statement; of course, most of his partners would be shorter. It wasn’t news. Kageyama had always been among the tallest in the castle, including towering over his own Knight. “And you should practice until you feel confident taking the lead. King Oikawa is renowned for his social graces, including his abilities in all aspects of the court. He will find it a show of weakness should he find your own skills to be lacking.”

Sugawara circled the two men, the pair standing just a few feet apart. With a less-than-soft nudge to the small of Hinata’s back, the Hand sent the orange-haired man staggering into the King Regent’s direction. On instinct, Kageyama held out his hands and caught the stableboy’s wrists as a means to steady him. 

“With that,” Sugawara said sagely, a smirk quirking his lips, “you have learned the first lesson of dance.” When both men eyed him with a look of confusion, he elaborated. “To act reflexively, and to always be light on your feet.”

From his spot leaning casually against the pillar, the Court Knight chuckled, clearly amused at his (secret) boyfriend’s (obvious) antics. That whole relationship was still something that the tall brunette was much too afraid to inquire about. He wasn’t ready to address his own feelings coming to light in that stable, let alone anyone else’s. 

“Alright, onto the second lesson.” Sugawara motioned for the Knight to come, and with a too-eager pep in his step, the broad man obliged. “Sir Sawamura, do you mind leading this dance for the sake of a quality demonstration?”

“Never, My Lord.” Being that they were both men of high merit and were obviously quite close, it was extremely unnecessary to address one another in such a formal manner, but Kageyama chalked it up to coy flirting. Or at least he was guessing. He had never flirted with anyone before, so it was a toss up.

The broad knight crossed the sparkling marble, the whole hall bathed in the late afternoon light, painting the pristine pillars in the rich golden rays of late spring. Summer would be upon them soon, and the elongated days would give way to humid nights and sweltering heat waves. The brunette King dared not to fantasize how he might spend those aforementioned nights as the bothersome fire of hope conjured up images of impassioned kisses and exploring hands and--  _ no _ , he reminded himself, blinking and luring his thoughts to the present, away from the perverse.  _ Pay attention!  _

Sugawara was talking again, demonstrating how to hold one’s arms during a waltz, explaining the importance of keeping track of the rhythm. He and Sir Sawamura were smiling at one another, one of the knight’s hands placed tentatively on Suga’s narrow hip while the other curled around the smaller, more delicate hand. From a few feet away, one of their royal musicians played a light-hearted melody on his violin, the sweeping sawing of strings ricocheting in the otherwise empty hall. 

Hinata looked nervous. He wasn’t dressed in usual attire, the things he wore for chores or stable work. Sugawara must have given him a new outfit. While it wasn’t suited for an actual ball, it was still lovely and made the shorter man look a touch more mature, a little closer to his true age. He wore cream-colored trousers and a black tunic embellished with golden stitching that complimented his large, curious eyes. 

“Go on,” Sugawara pressed, voice light. “You’re not just going to learn by watching!”

Fighting a furious blush, Kageyama proffered his hand, dark lashes lowering to touch the top of cheekbones. “May I?” he asked.

“S-sure!” Hinata excitedly stuttered, gladly taking what his King was offering. The touch felt so warm, so real, just like it had that night in the barn. Nothing had changed about Hinata, just like how nothing had changed regarding the King’s forbidden feelings. And as the music swelled and the Hand hollered out more instructions leaving the two boys spinning and swaying in a near-dizzying fashion, a dreaded realization made itself at home in his bones: denial and avoidance were no longer an option. 

That laugh, as innocent as it was boisterous, those sun-kissed freckles, tiny yet so prominent on his boyish cheekbones, that messy, colorful hair Kageyama desperately longed to card his fingers through. Everything about this stableboy was magical and so worthy of love. And as they stepped, awkward at first, but building confidence under Sugawara’s direction, Kageyama wished for the moment to never end. How he prayed that the stone walls would just fall away, that he could leave the castle and responsibilities behind him, only the two of them remaining. They could run off, elope, build a secluded life away in the mountains. If for true love, Kageyama would gladly shirk his responsibilities and his life of leisure. Material things would surely fade, but Hinata would always remain. 

As the afternoon waned and the lesson wrapped up, Hinata gave his King a smile, that beautiful, contagious one that was reminiscent of the noon sun. Without thinking and completely lacking concern for where he was and whom he was with, disregarding the burdens of his title, he brought the back of that pale hand, rough with manual labor, to the back of his lips. “Thank you for the dance.” 

And before Hinata could think of a response or Kageyama could feel embarrassed for acting so recklessly, a messenger arrived from Seijo, wielding a letter that confirmed the arrival date of the visiting King: Oikawa would be on their doorstep by the end of the month.

*

“You’re not going to speak about it.”

Gritting his teeth and flipping the page of his book, Kageyama growled an assertive and defensive  _ no _ .

“It just seems like something we should probably talk about.”

“The caravan from Seijo will be arriving tomorrow morning, Sugawara. Please let us focus on that.” 

There must have been a bit more hostility to his voice than intended because Sugawara immediately dropped the subject, light brown eyes returning to his paperwork. Between them, a candle burned, wearing down its wax, dripping into its golden stand. 

Kageyama sighed heavily; this wouldn't do. “I’m sorry, Sugawara,” he muttered diffidently, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. He knew his advisor was only trying to help, and for that he was truly grateful. However, it didn’t keep the pit out of his stomach - he was under a lot of stress. About a week after the dancing lesson, a report came in from the newly appointed palace physician, Takeda. The older man had given Kageyama news that he believed that the King could actually be cured of his lung disease if only Takeda could procure the proper ingredients to make the medicine. 

“Your father has a terrible lung issue,” Takeda had explained after stepping out from the oversized bed chamber. He was young, but still possessed a mature quality that seemed well past his years. He had extremely kind eyes and a trustworthy smile. Above all else, he had received a glowing recommendation from another court noble, and based on that, Takeda had been granted the position of ‘royal physician’. Despite his only being ten years older than the King Regent, the black-haired doctor was immensely talented. He had trained across all of Karasuno, even taking a sabbatical to study under an esteemed physician located in Seijo. “I think I could cure him to the point that he lives several more years. However, I also believe that some permanent, irreparable damage has been done.” 

Kageyama was quick to agree that they had to at least try. When asked what ingredients that Takeda would need for the cure, the older man explained that the herbal remedy he was aware of called for a rare Milk Flower, grown only in the palace greenhouse in Seijo. It was a difficult flower to cultivate and keep alive, but it’s medicinal properties were invaluable. Upon hearing this, a second letter was sent to King Oikawa, acting as a heartfelt plea requesting that he bring a milk flower with him when he came for the ball. 

“You have a lot on your mind, and it’s okay to speak about it.” Ever since they were children, the ashen haired man acted as an older brother to Kageyama, who was an only child. No matter what, Tobio would regard Sugawara as a kind soul with a voice of reason. Any sort of affection or concern that he demonstrated was truly genuine, and offered from a place of earnest regard.

“Do you think he will be kind about our request?” the King Regent wondered aloud, thoughts drifting, his cobalt eyes turning to smoldering black in the light of the dim gas lantern. “Or do you think he will stand on our misfortune and use it as a stepping stone to take advantage?”

The Hand considered it for a moment, pink lips pursed in show of concentration. “I think,” he said gently, bringing a comforting touch to his King’s tense shoulder, “that we should always hope for the best out of people.”

Dissatisfied with that answer but knowing it was all the more reassurance he would have until the visiting caravan actually arrived, Kageyama allowed himself a brief moment of self-indulgence in an effort to comfort his mounting anxiety. These moments entailed a distant dream of butterfly kisses to sun-warmed cheeks and cradling a short, slender frame in his toned arms. 

“Have you visited him?” Sugawara inquired after another long moment, words as soft as the glowing starlight just past the study window.

“My father?” Hardly a day went by without the dark-haired man paying his only living parent a visit. Even if he was asleep, Kageyama would linger by his bed and say a prayer to whatever eavesdropping deity might take pity on a child who longed not to be an orphan.

“Hinata.”

At the sound of his crush’s name, a burning heat was sent parading through his bloodstream, pooling in his cheeks. “I don’t have time to ride Mikasa,” he explained lamely, voice rising a few octaves, squeaking a little as it clawed through his suddenly parched throat. No, since their dance lesson, Kageyama hadn’t returned to the stables, too afraid to address the kiss he had pressed to the back of the stableboy’s hand, unwilling to acknowledge that he long to do that and so much more.

All Sugawara did was hum in response, returning his attention instead to perfecting the menu for the next night’s feast. 

*

With the way King Oikawa entered the Karasuno palace, one would assume he was simply arriving at his own castle, instead of being the guest at a neighboring Kingdom’s. He strolled in with an overconfident ease, gaze constantly scrutinizing and judging. Given how high his nose was pointed in the air, Kageyama would be surprised if Oikawa could even see where he was going. 

Dressed to the nines and sporting both perfectly styled chestnut hair and a smile that could bring grown men to their knees, the ‘Grand’ King, as the other monarchs so ironically dubbed him, practically floated through the great hall. “I always think this every time I’m here, but orange is such a horrid color.” It was hard for Kageyama to not take the sentiment personally, as he had come to associate the color with more than just the banner of his Kingdom; it was also, perhaps, reminiscent of love. 

“Well, it might not be as pleasing to the eye as your lovely teal,” Sugawara spoke up, always the diplomat, voice oozing with enough saccharine sweetness to curdle even the most iron of stomachs, “but it  _ is _ easy to spot on the battlefield.” 

From beside his monarch, Sir Sawamura’s thick eyebrow gave a slight twitch, the reaction subtle but still intentional. It appeared that the casual mention of war only further fanned the flames of tension present in the Knight’s broad-set shoulders. 

“Perhaps that is the case,” Oikawa continued, eyes flitting around the large room, “but I know which color I prefer sporting.”

Servants bustled around them, applying finishing touches to the decor. Spring-fresh flowers of vibrant snapdragons and radiant hyacinth were brought in to decorate and brighten the hall, but also filled the space with the most fragrant of aromas. These were the native flowers of Karasuno, and the smell always reminded Kageyama of his beloved homeland, and of his mother, who always enjoyed spending time in the palace gardens. To roll out such stops for Seijo was truly a sign of honor and respect, and hopefully, a sign of alliance. 

“Your Grace,” came the careful call of the visiting King’s Hand, a slender man that had been introduced previously as Hanamaki, “should we allow our hosts to show us to our quarters?”

Kageyama knew a placating tone when he heard one. Hanamaki was attempting to save face and prevent a squabble. Based on his earlier run-ins with King Oikawa, Kageyama knew that the chestnut-haired man could get awfully mouthy and knew just how to cut with his words. In their youth, Kageyama had looked up to the neighboring King, back when they were both simply Princes. Oikawa was silver-tongued and so charismatic, perfect in any social situation, quick to draw laughter and pleasantries from those around him. In a way, he was everything Kageyama was not. It took a long time for Kageyama to understand that there were two versions of King Oikawa, much like the opposite faces of a gold coin. One didn’t exist without the other; all you could do was toss it in the air and hope for the more ideal side. 

“Oh, yes. I suppose we shall.” Oikawa turned and eyed Kageyama and Sugawara. “After we’ve rested a moment, I think we have much to discuss.”

The ashen-haired advisor was quick to reply, a coolness to his words. “Of course.” With that, Sugawara turned, motioning for the Seijo visitors to follow. They obliged, Hanamaki listening dutifully as they walked. Leading the back of the party was a man that Kageyama didn’t recognize, but given the look in Sawamura’s eyes, the knight knew the dark-haired visitor immediately.

“Sir Sawamura,” the brunette offered in greeting, bending slightly at the waist in a polite bow. He was dressed in silver armour, a teal flower insignia painted across his silver plated chest. Beneath one of his deep jade eyes was a delicate scar, as though he had been cut by a thin blade. He wore a hardened expression, but he still boasted an aura of respect and kindness. And as the Crow Knight of Karasuno bowed a greeting in return, Kageyama knew it must be the case. “It is good to see that you are well.”

Sawamura extended his hand, each knight clasping the other below the elbow, giving a firm shake. It was a long-standing tradition, to check your opposite for a dagger, because after all, old habits die hard. “The same to you, Sir Iwaizumi.” There was a genuine touch of a smile to Daichi’s deep umber eyes, as if he were greeting an old friend. “I hope you had some travel mercies along your journey.”

Both men released their grasps and stood at full height. The Seijo knight was taller, that much was true. But just glancing between the two men it was easy to tell that Sawamura outweighed the visitor, muscles denser and thicker beneath his own armour. In a fistfight, or even a spar, it would be a close call, but Kageyama would bet piles of gold on his own Knight’s victory. 

“We did,” Iwaizumi said. “Toor-- I mean,” he cleared his throat, the faintest touches of red gracing his cheeks. “King Oikawa is very particular about travel, so it went about as well as we could have expected.”

Sawamura nodded. “I understand.” Kageyama didn’t believe that sentiment for a moment - what was there to understand? Neither he nor his father were high maintenance. If given the opportunity, they would skip the caravan and go wherever they needed with a small entourage, all on horseback. 

Apparently, Iwaizumi must have found this comment amusing as well because he gave a deep chuckle and shook his head. “I doubt that, Sir Sawamura. But I am glad we’re here safely.”

“Should we have a practice spar after our meal? Or would you rather wait for the ball?” 

At that note, Kageyama felt as though he had lingered too long. He silently dismissed himself, leaving the two enthusiastic men to work out some sort of plan for their training. It would be fun, Kageyama thought, especially since it had been a long time since Daichi had faced such a well-matched opponent. 

Letting his feet guide him, he wandered out to the gardens, thoughts completely engrossed by his kingdom’s visitors. Immediately upon their arrival, Kageyama wanted to ask if Oikawa had brought the milk flower with them, as Takeda was on standby, ready to start the elixir at a moment’s notice. However, despite his rather ‘green’ status as a sovereign monarch, even he knew that asking such a question would immediately put any and all negotiations at risk. In their letter, Seijio had agreed to bring the medicinal herb, but it was pretty clear it was going to cost. Kageyama nor Sugawara had disclosed what exactly they needed the flower for, though it was likely pretty obvious: someone important was ill and needed treatment. And since Kageyama was the current King Regent, it wouldn’t take a scholar to deduce exactly who. 

A marble bench sat toward the center of the garden, placed perfectly beneath the shade of a weeping willow. The long, green tendrils swayed in the early summer breeze, blowing gracefully. It was the perfect spot for Kageyama to gather his thoughts, to work through a plan. He and Sugawara had discussed one at length, but upon seeing Oikawa in person once more, he suddenly felt rattled.  _ This is real _ , he realized as he lowered himself to the bench, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes,  _ this is my chance _ . He had a genuine opportunity to turn things around, to make his father well again, to settle the tension building at his borders, all with a single meeting. 

“Your Grace.”

The sweet voice was almost lost to the wind, the subtle brushing of the leaves, the roaring of his own thoughts. It caused his heart to flutter, like a bird high in the branches; suddenly, his feet felt heavy, as though rooted to the earth. The last thing he needed was to hear that voice; that voice would surely save him, rescue him from his downward spiral.

“Hinata.” The stableboy’s name left his lips in a rushed sigh. And despite being in the shade, the sun blinded him, that radiant smile splitting such a stunning face in two.

“Have the visitors from Seijo arrived, Your Grace?” 

“Yes,” Kageyama answered, bringing his gaze to the grass beneath his polished black boots. Apart from that time Sugawara so cleverly arranged their dance lesson, he had never run into Hinata anywhere other than the stables.

“You don’t sound very pleased about that.” 

Kageyama let out a sigh and slid over on the bench, gesturing for the stableboy to join him. Hinata seemed eager to oblige, lowering himself to have a seat. From their side-by-side position, their knees almost touched, a realization that caused the King Regent’s stomach to tighten. “I am concerned.” It was very rare for him to admit when something bothered him. He usually relied on Sugawara’s sharp instincts to pick up on his uneasiness and comfort him- there were things that man just knew without ever having to be told. 

“What about?” There was a curious quality to his question, laced with genuine concern. Kageyama believed that perhaps this beautiful boy didn’t possess a single nefarious bone in his body, that he had been bred of purity and wonderment. 

And because of that, the brunette King found it easy to open up to him. “That I will fail, and my failure will create a chain of events that I can’t stop.” A cobalt eye observed Hinata carefully at that admission, but to his surprise, the ginger also seemed to be thinking, his wide, amber eyes set dead-ahead. All around them, nature moved, though the two remained perfectly still.

“There is something you need from Seijo.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation. Perhaps this stableboy was more keen than he let on.

“That is correct.” 

“I have heard stories and rumors about King Oikawa. It is said that he is vain and boisterous.” To that, the King Regent scoffed - it appeared that even those not in nobility were aware of the brunette’s cocky and arrogant behavior. “But I also hear that he is kind.”

Blinking steadily, Kageyama turned and faced the object of his affection head on, taken aback. “You have heard such things?”

“Sure,” Hinata replied, flashing another one of his glorious smiles. “I think someone can be vain, but still be kind. Nobody is perfect, just like no one is entirely bad.” He reached up and curled a long strand of his orange hair, body language switching to something a little more guarded and demure. “If you would forgive my candor, there are rumors about you, Your Grace.”

Surely, that came as no surprise. Who wouldn’t gossip about their own monarch, especially those who served in the palace? It would be an easy passtime, something entertaining to break up the monotony of their work day. But Kageyama had never really considered what others might say, or how he was perceived. It was too focused on his task at hand.

Curiosity got the better of him, however, as he asked, “and what do they say?”

It was Hinata’s turn to blush, arms folding across his well-worn blouse, as though to make himself smaller. Not that he needed help in that area, he was already so miniscule next to the tall King Regent. “They say that you are reserved and short-tempered, that you have ill manners despite your upbringing. Some in the palace say that you think very little of those around you and just try to manage everything yourself.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, the Kageyama asked the only question that popped in the forefront of his mind. “Do you believe them?” His words were quiet, almost unheard under the cacophony of rustling trees and the evening cry of the cicadas. Why did he place so much merit on a stableboy’s opinion? The understanding would hit him later, burning through his extremities in a violent surge, but for now, it only settled in his stomach, a clenching pit. 

It felt as though it took ages for Hinata to reply, his pretty, pink lips pursed in a thin line of concentration. He appeared to be searching for the right words, the right thing to say. “No,” he replied finally, tone warm, washed with adoration. “I think you are very kind.” Bronze lashes fluttered then and the world came to a complete standstill. Nothing existed outside of their two bodies, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, the marble bench cool beneath their legs, the wind like warm, comforting fingers as it carded through their hair. “I just think you are weighed down.” 

A long, drawn-out pause permeated between them, as though they were both holding their breath, the reality of Hinata’s words taking some time to settle. Kageyama could only stare, drinking in every sun-kissed freckle, every boyish pocket of baby fat, every angle and plane of his gorgeous face, wishing to burn it to his memory. Never did he want this moment to fade.

But like all good things, it came to an end, crashing like a relentless wave. “Your Highness!” It was Sugawara’s voice, a bit breathless as he jogged across the gardens. Kageyama turned his attention upward, catching sight of his advisor. “There you are. Dai-- I mean, Sir Sawamura and I have been looking all over for you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sugawara,” he offered as he rose to greet his most trusted advisor.

“That’s quite alright, but we need to get you changed for dinner. It will be served shortly, and I suspect that King Oikawa values punctuality.” Undoubtedly, the brunette King would accept nothing less than Karasuno’s best in every regard. 

Turning to take his leave, the King Regent waved goodbye to his friend. “Thank you, Hinata.”

The orange-haired boy waved. “Good luck, Your Grace.”

Kageyama was going to need it.

*

Being seated across from each other was customary, though Kageyama had to constantly push down the desire to kick the visiting King in the shin from beneath the table. Apparently, Sugawara was thinking the same thing, if the incredulous look on his face was anything to go by. They were part way through their third course, which was a delightful garden salad, but at this rate, they would be lucky if everyone made it to the main entree in one piece. 

Oikawa was droning on, quite pleased with the sound of his own sugary sweet voice. He had refilled his wine goblet several times, much to his knight’s chagrin. The intense brunette known as Iwaizumi stood over his King’s shoulder, often whispering things like,   
‘ _slow down or you’ll choke’._   
_‘I won’t choke, Iwa-chan.’_ _  
_ _‘You’re right, I could never be that lucky.’_

It was probably a conversation that Kageyama wasn’t meant to overhear, but he couldn’t help finding it a tad bit amusing. The knight had to be someone pretty special to get away with spouting such uncouth comments to his king.

Finally, as the roasted hens were served, Oikawa broke the tension, addressing the heart of their situation. Up to that point, it had been mostly small talk, chattering initiated by both Hands. Hanamaki detailed their journey, the sights they saw. The pink-haired man even offered sincere compliments on the food, the drink, and the melodic harp music that poured from the talented musician at the corner of the room.

“So tell me,” the brown-haired King began, cutting carefully into his roasted dish, batting the dark lashes that framed his gorgeous, hazel eyes, “why have you invited me here?”

Looking to his advisor for one last signal of encouragement, which he received through an encouraging nod, Kageyama cleared his throat. It was now or never. “As I’m sure you well know, there is talk amongst the Kingdom regarding tension between us.” Oikawa popped a bite of food into mouth, waiting for his host to continue. “And I simply wish to put an end to such a rumor, if possible.”

“And what of the milk flower?” A perfectly manicured eyebrow arched high on his forehead. “What does that have to do with diplomacy?”

“Everything,” Kageyama revealed, knowing at that instant, even with a single word, he had already said too much. The emotion was just too heavy in his chest. What Hinata had said before was right; he was weighed down, and it was coming to the point that he could no longer bear it. His responsibilities felt like a tortuous ball and chain around his ankle, a burden he felt unfit to carry. Next to him, Sugawara stiffened, clearly mortified at Kageyama for breaking the plan. 

“Everything?” Oikawa repeated cooly, finally looking up from his meal. “Well, then perhaps it is invaluable, then. Maybe you couldn’t even begin to name a fair price.”

“Maybe,” cobalt eyes narrowed, a cloying anxiety welling in his chest, “but it is the truth.”

“Why not lie? That would have been the smart thing to do.” 

Tension flared in his body, he knew that Oikawa was right. It would have been smarter to lie, without a doubt. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He dismantled his own bargaining chip for the sake of his morality. 

“It would have been,” Kageyama conceded finally, earning him a displeased scoff from his Hand, “but I did not drag you all the way here to simply disrespect you to your face. Had I, then I would not be the man my father raised me to be.”

Something akin to profound understanding washed across Oikawa then, softening the refined planes of his handsome face, causing his hazel eyes to widen in surprise, his fork stilling in his hand. It was no secret that the ‘Grand’ King could be a bit impetuous and irritating, prone to speaking thoughtlessly. At the same time, it was also said that flattery could open any door of Seijo’s castle, but that wasn’t what Kageyama was going for, not here. He wouldn’t lie and he certainly wouldn’t serve up empty words in an effort to ascertain his goals - that wasn’t how he wanted to win, nor how he wanted to save his father’s life. 

“I must say,” Oikawa admitted, working to school his features back into something more nonchalant. “I didn’t expect such honesty.”

“Then you didn’t expect our best.” 

A sly smile pulled at his lips. “So let me ask again - what do you want the milkflower for?”

“Our new palace physician, Takeda, says he trained under your castle’s master when he was in his apprenticeship, as well as several others.” There would be no ace up his sleeve now, no last minute card. It was all on the table, and Oikawa could manipulate him easily, should he so please. “My father, the true King, is very ill, as I’m sure you’ve heard.” Oikawa nodded, as did Hanamaki beside him. Kageyama continued, “Takeda believes he can create an elixir to cure my father, but he has to have the milkflower to do so, the special strain that grows in your castle greenhouse. I do not know what I can offer you in exchange for the promise of peace, just like I don’t know what I can offer up for your precious herb. But should you name it, and I am able to, I will abide by it.”

“Your Grace!” Sugawara hissed. This wasn’t their plan, not at all. There was an element of deception to a negotiation, a certain air of stealth and charisma that came along with it. Truly, it was an art form. But Kageyama was no artist, not in the slightest, and this whole conversation only made that all the clearer.

“Do you know what Seijo wants from Karasuno, your majesty?” Given his tone, it was a little obvious that King Oikawa was speaking somewhat deliberately, shedding his own inhibitions and doubts. “The same as we always have - control of the southern gate.”

Kageyama froze. He should have prepared for that answer, as that particular piece of land was a sore topic among the two bordering nations. Whoever controlled the southern gate controlled the flow of traffic in and out of Shiratorizawa. Karasuno and Seijo existed side-by-side, east and west. But the powerhouse to their south, Shiratorizawa, bordered them both. However, thanks to the kilometer wide river that acted as a natural boundary, only one reliable bridge existed, connecting the three kingdoms. For almost a decade, Karasuno commanded the gate. 

Why was this important? Simply stated, whoever had control over the gate was seen as the stronger of the two kingdoms in the eyes of Shiratorizowa, and therefore, viewed as an ally. Despite their somewhat barbaric and outlandish nature, there were no doubts regarding the White Eagle King’s strength and tenacity. It was much simpler to have him as an ally than an enemy. There were also the added benefits of trade embargoes and the ability to leverage fees for using the bridge.

“You want to make an ally out of Shiratorizawa?” Last King Kageyama had heard, Oikawa had turned down a marriage proposal from the Warrior King Ushijima. Not only had he been rejected, but Oikawa had even gone so far as to publicly shame the southern king, a show of foolish pride. The marriage would have sealed a treaty without a doubt, even going as far as to combine the two’s military forces. What a terrifying thought  _ that _ was. 

“I do.” From beside the King, his knight frowned, clearly upset with the topic of conversation. There was a jealous glint in those emerald eyes, and Kageyama suspected he was beginning to catch on. “That uncivilized brute told me that I would  _ never  _ gain control of that gate without his help.” He sneered then, almost snarling in disgust. “I would do anything to prove him wrong.” 

“Is your goal to team up with him and then attack Karasuno?” It was Sugawara’s turn to speak, sounding so mature and protective, everything a Hand should be. 

“Ha!” the brunette laughed, waving his hand. “As if. At this moment, I have no plans for any military movement of any kind, as I am busy planning a wedding, you see.” 

“A wedding? I thought you turned down Ushijima’s marriage proposal?”

“I did, and I would a thousand times more.” To be fair, he looked completely sick at the prospect of being married off to King Ushijima. “I am marrying for love instead.” He picked up his left hand and flashed a stunning opal ring, the shimmering mineral the size of a large riverstone. Once more, the dark-haired knight shuffled next to the wing back chair, the faintest blush dusting his tanned skin. 

“Congratulations,” both the Karasuno King and his Hand said simeotaneously, each with varying degrees of enthusiasm. 

The Seijo King looked pleased. “Why thank you.” 

“So that’s all that you want then?” Kageyama had to be sure. The Southern gate in exchange for his father’s life? That was the easiest trade. Almost  _ too  _ easy. It made him fearful to hear more conditions.

“Oh no, Tobio-chan, there _ is  _ more.” Of course there was, and Kageyama flinched at the informal, almost insulting, use of his name. “I demand that this ball of yours tomorrow be truly exquisite.” 

“Sugawara has made all the arrangements and spared no expense.” Sugawara nodded the affirmative. 

“Excellent.” Something in his demeanor gave away that this list wasn’t going to be short, nor simple. “I also expect an extravagant wedding gift, something exotic and imported - absolutely nothing native to this kingdom.” 

Sugawara answered for his King instead, a notepad and fountain pen already out, jotting things down. “Done.”

“Decrease the cost of your wheat exports. They’re much too pricey, and I absolutely love bread.”

Reluctantly, Sugawara wrote that down, then nodded. The list continued for a few moments more, each requesting varying in it’s ostentatiousness and expense. They were all frivolous, just silly demands to see if Kageyama would comply. He would, and he did. They weren’t just bartering for a special flower, no. They were putting a price on peace of mind, on his father’s life, on his own freedom to pursue love and happiness. There was so much as stake, and Oikawa hadn’t the faintest idea.

“Is that all?” Sugawara was clearly exasperated, his handwriting getting sloppy from fatigue as it descended down the parchment. 

“Hmm…” Oikawa patted a thoughtful finger to his lips as the servants cleared the large table of it’s plates. Soon, the dessert would be served. “I just have one more request.”

Sugawara narrowed his eyes. “And what is that, Your Highness?” he inquired through gritted teeth.

“Tomorrow night, at the ball,” he leaned forward, twirling his desert spoon through his long, elegant fingers, “I would like for King Kageyama to show me someone that is willing to love him.”

“How absurd!” Sugawara scoffed, taken aback by what he was hearing.

“It does sound absurd, doesn’t it?” A mischievous grin split his face in two. “But surely, no task is too difficult for such a genius, now is it?” Oikawa was referencing that time as children when Kageyama outshined the brunette king while using the bow and arrow. It had embarrassed the older boy greatly, to be upstaged by someone so much younger. The King of Karasuno had suspected that Oikawa was holding onto something so petty - it suited him perfectly. He scoffed. “Someone loving such a sour, disagreeable soul- how preposterous.” 

“You will come to regret those words,” the silver-haired Hand countered. “You shall see.” Kageyama didn’t feel near as confident.

With a light-hearted laugh, Oikawa took a spoonful of the strawberry cake that had just been set in front of him. “Oh, how I seriously doubt that.” 

*

The swell of orchestra music alerted Kageyama that the ball was in full swing, the palace overflowing with guests of notoriety and nobility, ready to mingle and schmooze and do all of the other ‘important’ things that those in their socioeconomic bracket seemed to enjoy. Not Tobio, though. If there was one thing he despised, it was being forced to socialize. If he could send Sugawara or another delegate to do it his stead, that would be much preferred, however, that wouldn’t be an option tonight. 

Not to mention, his stomach was coiled in ropes simply from the anxiety of what was to come, the visiting King’s request still burning in his ears: _ show me someone who is willing to love you _ . Despite his long-standing crush and his unspoken desires, he knew that there was no way in hell that the kind-hearted and sweet stableboy would truly have any real feelings for him. Sugawara insisted otherwise, but he was always optimistic. The King Regent tended to lean more toward realism. 

After all, Oikawa was right - who could love such a sour soul? The awful things that Hinata revealed that others spoke about him, they were all true, down to the last detail. Maybe he wasn’t as self-centered as he had once before, but that hardly changed the overall validity of the statement. Compared to the redhead, Kageyama wasn’t kind, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, nor did he carry with him the contagious, altruistic spirit that Hinata did. He was awkward, lacking in charisma and charm. Plus, he was unbearably stubborn and blunt to the point of rudeness, speaking his mind instead of relying on cordial pleasantries. 

However, the stableboy was his only bet. If such a joyful, caring creature couldn’t love him, then there was no way that anyone else ever would. He was willing to put his own pride on the line and in the event that he got turned down, he would face, beyond a doubt, the worst humiliation of his life. Should Hinata reject him, his only backup plan was banking on the hope that Oikawa would find his disgrace and shame so hilariously entertaining that he took pity on the King Regent and still handed over the life-saving herb regardless. It was a long shot, but all that was left to do was try.

“Your Grace?” Sugawara approached the young king, a tentative smile on his lips. Tobio was standing in a secluded hallway, just on the other side of the grand hall. Without realizing it, he had been staring up at the night sky, thoughts swirling and infinite like the sea of stars above them. “Are you ready to make your entrance?”

“I think so,” he replied numbly, knowing full well it didn’t matter if he was truly prepared or not. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. They had reached a point of no return. Sugawara had invited Hinata to the ball, and Kageyama was finally going to confess to him. A long year and a half had come and passed, the brunette’s feelings growing all the stronger with each changing season. He had a plan, and that included a well-rehearsed speech outlining the day he fell in love all the way until now. He would wait toward the end of the night when the wine warmed their faces and left their hands tingling just enough to amount to liquid courage. And then, he would admit that apart from his money and status, he didn’t really have much to offer the stableboy. Surely, he would make a poor companion to such a kind and earnest human being, and he just simply hoped that Hinata could love him anyway.

The advisor gave a soft chuckle, reaching out to adjust the gold epaulets on either of Kageyama’s broad shoulders. “You look awfully stately tonight, Your Grace,” Sugawara complimented. He was dressed in his full royal garb, which included his black, military jacket, fastened securely with shining brass buttons, each one embellished with an ornate crow’s feather. Across his chest was a blood orange sash, embroidered with complicated, criss-cross stitching. On his large hands, he wore white leather gloves, meant to be a symbol of his noble status. And on his head, he wore the most important accessory of all: a simple, golden crown, boasting only one jewel. It was his birthstone: a bold, blue tanzanite, almost the same color as his azure eyes.

The advisor was dressed in his finest clothes as well, only his were a gorgeous and stark white. Just over his beating heart was the pin representative of the Karasuno Hand: a large feather carved from onyx, embodying the crow, through and through.

“Thank you, Sugawara.” 

There must have been a touch of nervousness to his reply because, at that moment, the Hand reached up and cupped either side of his King’s face. The soft, slender hands were cool to the touch, especially on such an unseasonably warm night. “You have done so well these past months, and I am so very proud of you. As is your father, and even Daichi. Whatever happens tonight, know that you’ve tried your best, and that’s all we could ever ask.”

The all-too-familiar stinging of tears took to the back of his eyes, but Sugawara quietly clicked his tongue and ran his thumbs beneath both watery, cobalt orbs. “No tears tonight, Your Highness.” There was a very comforting tone to the Hand’s voice, something brotherly and maternal, all in the same breath. “Your date awaits.”

To that, Kageyama’s attention snapped forward, the bindings of his self-deprecation quickly shaken as Sugawara’s hands left his face. “My date?” He hadn’t agreed to any such thing. This was going against the plan. He was supposed to casually ‘bump into’ Hinata and they were going to have several glasses of wine and--

“Well sure, Your Grace. How else would you prove that someone loves you?” When Kageyama didn’t respond, the Hand chuckled harder. “Don’t tell me -- you just thought you’d run into each other and it’d work out like some sort of fairytale?” He knew his mouth was gaping open like a fish’s as he struggled to formulate a response. “Well, then thank the gods that I have intervened.”

With that, Sugawara stepped aside to give his King a better view. Kageyama was finally able to see that at the end of the hallway, far enough away to be out of earshot, was the object of his longsuffering affection, a beautiful man with gorgeous orange hair and alluring amber eyes. Just like he had been that day of their dance lessons, he was wearing a new outfit, only this time, the garments were truly fit for the ostentatious affair. His get-up was a deep, smoke gray, the buttons silver and reflecting the pale moonlight that filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Hinata was staring down at his hands, seemingly muttering to himself, looking extremely nervous. And of course, who wouldn’t be anxious in this situation? Kageyama certainly was.

“You will be announced by yourself since you are unwed,” the Hand explained, leaning over to whisper in his King’s ear. “But otherwise, I think someone is looking forward to spending the evening with you.”

His feet moved on their own volition, taking him down the long, marble corridor. The sound of his leather soles reverbed with every step, bringing him all the closer to the love he so desperately longed for. As the King approached, Hinata turned to greet him, and suddenly, it was as though dazzling daylight had been poured into the darkened hallway. The grin was so broad that it caused his cheeks to turn pink and the corners of his eyes to crinkle, giving the illusion of crow’s feet on his youthful face. 

“Your Highness--” but the rest of his words were swept away, lost in his lungs as the King Regent’s arms enveloped him a near-bone crushing hug, large, gloved hands splayed over his slender shoulders. It was perhaps not the most appropriate of times to offer such a gesture, but Kageyama couldn’t bring it himself to care. Under the cover of the dark hallway, he allowed himself one simple indulgence, one tiny allowance, one meager fulfillment of a wish so long withheld. And it was with overwhelming relief that he sighed, totally awestruck that Hinata was hugging him back, the warmth of their bodies addicting. 

Due to their height difference, Kageyama was able to tuck Hinata’s head just under his chin and revel in his scent, something sweet, like rosewater, though the earthy hint of hay and open fields could never fully wash away, no matter how extravagant the bath. And Kageyama never wanted it to.

“You came,” was all the tall monarch said, breathless, heart pounding in his chest.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Hinata replied. Kageyama pulled away from the hug, suddenly coming back to himself a bit. Hot embarrassment rolled through his body as he came to fully realize the absurdity of his behavior, suddenly aware of just how impulsive he had acted. From a few yards back, he could have sworn he heard his Hand giggle. 

“I- uhh,” he started, cloying for the proper words. Should he apologize? Should he try to explain? Should he confess? 

Thankfully, Hinata intervened, saving him from further awkwardness. “Your Highness, can I tell you something?”

To that question, Kageyama nodded, a thousand thoughts swirling in his head. What on earth could the stableboy ask of him? Whatever it was, he would gladly oblige. If Hinata was the sun, then Kageyama would hang the stars beside him, shiny as diamonds, twinkling next to the brightest of lights. Long had his feelings for the stableboy been buried, but he was afraid that tonight, at this moment, they would be exhumed. 

Taking a deep breath, Hinata grabbed both of the King’s gloved hands. In comparison, his hands were much smaller and covered with calluses, hard evidence of his life of labor. The only calluses the king ever had were from simply holding a quill too long - nothing at all worth bragging about. In his youth, the leather reins from riding his horse and the crisp wood of his bow had hardened his palms, but disappointingly, those days were long behind him.

“I know that this might upset you, Your Grace--”

“Don’t call me that, not right now,” Kageyama knew his voice sounded pleading and desperate, though he didn’t have it in him to care. “Please, call me by my first name... “ Even though he was sure the stableboy knew his reigning monarch’s given name, Kageyama felt the need to introduce himself, as though they were meeting for the very first time. In a way, they were. ”I’m Tobio.”

Fluttering those long, copper lashes, Hinata stood a moment in shock, absorbing those words. “Okay…” He drew a soft breath, building his courage until finally, he whispered, “ _ Tobio _ .”

It was the first time ever hearing his name said so sweetly like it was something precious and worthy. Because he had been addressed by a title all of his life, it was almost jarring to be called by his own name. Only his father, who spoke with a gruff and authoritative voice naturally, ever uttered it. 

“May I call you Shouyou?” he asked hesitantly. 

The redhead giggled nervously, tightening his grip on the King’s hands as a reflex; Kageyama gave a squeeze back. “Yeah, of course, you can.”

Kageyama felt like he was melting. “Thank you.”

“O-of course,” he stuttered, blushing. After clearing his throat as a means to steal himself and gather his thoughts, he finally spoke again. “Tobio, there is something I have to tell you…” he took a quick breath in before uttering the most beautiful sentences the young King had ever heard, “I really care about you, like a lot. And I know you have so much going on with your royal duties and your dad, but when you come to the stables, or we see each other at the grounds, it completely makes my day. Even if I can only wave to you, or just watch as you walk through the gardens, I just go…  _ gwah _ !! And my heart is like,  _ woosh _ ! Ya know? Just right there in my chest!” 

The words were leaving him in a violent, nervous rush, his explanations quickly deteriorating and becoming all the more endearing, dripping with sincerity. The most adorable thing Kageyama had ever had the privilege of witnessing was Hinata’s face glowing red with a combination of embarrassment and excitement. 

“I have never felt like this before, and I know I’m just a lowly commoner, but I had to tell you this because I don’t know what’s happening or like, if you’re going somewhere or why Seijo is here or whatever, but please, please don’t marry King Oikawa!” At that, he folded in half, a perfect bow, hands finally pulling from Kageyama’s just so they could clasp together in a pleading gesture. The tips of his ears were almost the same color as his fiery hair. “Because I want a shot, Your Highness!”

Somewhere in the darkness of the hall came a resounding laugh, almost bitter in it’s delivery, laden with mirth and ire. It didn’t belong to Sugawara, that much Kageyama could deduce even through the fog that clouded his brain. Someone was laughing at the fact that he had just been confessed to, and when Kageayama found out who it was-- 

“Don’t get your crown crooked there, Your Highness.” At that moment, a head of chestnut hair appeared, the monarch from Seijo dressed in a stunning teal ensemble, his own embellishments and accents a crisp and regal white. Of course, no king’s outfit was complete without his crown, though Oikawa’s was delicate, woven of thin metal pieces manipulated to resemble twisted metal branches. The leaves of the artificial foliage were deep-set emeralds, clearly making a statement. 

“Who are you mocking?” An aggressive snarl left Kageyama’s throat, quickly turning around to face the Seijo King. Using his body as a shield, he tucked Hinata behind him. Not that Oikawa was threatening them. Rather, Kageyama was trying to hide Hinata so he didn’t see the way he was going to tear Oikawa’s throat out for his insolence.

“Oh, no one! Truly!” he waved his hands dismissively. Trailing behind him was his knight, Iwaizumi. “I would just like to meet whoever started that disgusting rumor that I was here to wed Tobio-chan.” He gagged at those words, handsome features distorted in disgust. It was a similar expression to the one he wore in the dining hall the night before when Kageyama had mentioned Ushijima's proposal. “As I would very much like to cut off their head.”

Hinata gasped at that, poking from around his King. “I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect! One of the servants said something and I was scared it was true! I could never compete with someone as lovely as you, Y-Your Grace! You are incredible and seeing you in person I think you might be the most beautiful human I’ve ever laid eyes on! You would be a wonderful husband for our King and--”

“Hush, chibi-chan,” Oikawa commanded, but his tone was amused. Clearly, he was also charmed by the innocence and honesty of the red-headed stableboy. “I wouldn’t marry Kageyama if he were the last man on this earth…” he paused a moment, thinking, “well, maybe second to last. That Ushiwaka-chan is probably harder to control and manipulate...” 

Looking completely not thrilled with Oikawa, Iwaizumi coughed into his hand, signaling his fiance to get to the point. “Yes, yes, I’m wrapping it up Iwa-chan, please don’t fret.” He took a step forward and held out his hand, motioning for Hinata to come forward. The ginger-haired man obliged, stepping out from behind his human shield.

“Had I not witnessed this confession for myself, I would have chalked it up to a servant with delusions of grandeur, simply chasing a better life.” Oikawa’s right hand curled around Hinata’s, and he used his free hand to grab onto Kageyama’s, despite how touching the other monarch seemed to pain him. “But, I am as gracious as I am beautiful--” Iwaizumi coughed at that comment “--and I know a genuine, heartfelt proclamation of love when I see one.” 

Kageyama felt some of the tension leave his body as Oikawa brought his and the stableboy’s hands back together, the Seijo King sandwiching them between his own. His left hand was on top, and the pearlescent opal of his engagement ring twinkled in the white moonlight. 

“As someone who chose love over duty, I will tell you, that it is not easy. My fiance is a great, powerful warrior, but he is not from a royal bloodline and our marriage does nothing to solidify political bonds or treaties or anything boring of the sort.” He drew a sharp breath as he pulled his hands away and reached backward, capturing his knight’s grasp, their fingers interlacing. “There will be many who question your decision or doubt the validity of your love, but don’t let them. Be strong and stay true to yourselves - this is my gracious and invaluable advice.” Never once did he break eye contact with Kageyama.

Before he could move forward and act on his desires, he had to ask the Seijo King one question. “So you’ll give us the milk flower, then? This confession has satisfied your stipulations?” 

Despite how wildly inappropriate it was, Oikawa laughed, pressing his unoccupied hand to his chest, letting out a roaring, indignant chuckle. “Oh my, Tobio-chan, you must have been so worried.”

“What the hell are you going on about?!” Kageyama barked, his temper flaring once more. Was he going to go back on his word? Now, after everything? 

“Shitty-kawa, just tell him the truth.”

For the first time in a long moment, Sugawara piped up from his position several feet away, where he had been simply observing, though he was pacing forward, quickly closing the gap. His voice was tinged with alarm as he asked, “What have you been keeping from us?”

Oikawa huffed as if offended. “Why do you make me sound like some sort of villain? Iwa-chan, they’re being mean! Why are they being mean?” 

The Seijo Knight gave a glace so menacing that it rattled even Kageyama’s nerves. “You  _ know  _ why.”

“Fine!” he balked, “there goes the surprise!” To his credit, he did look slightly miffed, indicating that it wasn’t all for show. “Tobio-chan, Hanamaki gave the flower to your physician last night after dinner. I’m sure he is done with the elixir by now, meaning that a cure is on its way.”

At the same time, both Kageyama and Sugawara exhaled a stunned, “ _ what _ ?!”

Clearly excited to have the spotlight, Oikawa continued, his words pompous and smug. “To ensure his silence and not ruin my big reveal, I promised Takeda that he could keep the extra milk flower and cultivate it for different medicinal uses, only if he agreed to share any breakthroughs he made with our own royal physician, Matsukawa.” He fluttered his beautiful lashes, making a true display of his good deed. “I knew you’d be too busy today with preparations to be able to see your father or check-in with Takeda.” 

“So what, forcing him to give a love confession was just to see if he’d just through your hoops?” Sugawara looked extremely displeased, but his questioning had lost some of its heat. Clearly, he was also relieved to hear that true King Kageyama would soon be feeling better.

“Well, partly.” That unmistakable, mischievous glint returned to Oikawa’s hazel eyes. “But I really didn’t think someone actually loved such a second-rate, brutish monarch like Tobio-chan. I was really looking forward to seeing him get his heart broken so I could hang the embarrassment over his for the rest of time.” 

“You are a devil,” Iwaizumi murmured, furrowing his dark brows. 

In a mock pirouette, Oikawa turned on his heel before wrapping his arms around his knight’s neck. “Yeah, but you love me.”

“Days like this, I wish I didn’t.”

Disbelief hit him long before any sort of relief did. The only thing grounding him, keeping him from floating away was the gentle, comforting weight of Hinata’s touch, still in his grasp. “So my father is going to be okay.” Despite hearing it once already, he decided that wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Without turning around, Oikawa threw over his shoulder. “Of course he will be! If your doctor is as talented as they say, then the true King of Karasuno will be better in no time.” In a show that he was done being interrogated, he pulled dreamily at his fiance, leading him back toward the direction of the ball. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to dance with my Iwa-chan.”

Reading the room quite easily, as was his way, Sugawara offered a demure wave. “Ah, I should probably go check on your father. I will provide you an update shortly.” Giving them one last long, satisfied look, the Hand left the space, taking long, quick steps back toward the royal chambers. Waiting at the end of the long stretch, however, was a true knight in shining armor, Sir Sawamura’s unmistakable steel breastplate catching in the silver light. Reunited, the pair disappeared from view.

Several moments passed before either man spoke, the silence almost ear-shattering as the weight of all the past month’s burden lifted off of the King Regent’s chest. It was difficult to grasp, and he was unsure if he wanted to thank or punch Oikawa. Too many thoughts were swirling in his brain.

“Tobio?” the stableboy whispered softly, turning to face the taller man. Blessedly, his face was still red and his beautiful, amber eyes were shimmering with something akin to sheer, unbridled wonderment. “Does this mean that your father is going to be the King again?”

He nodded, inhaling a shaky breath. “Yes, I believe so.”

“So then you’ll have more time to visit the stables?” A note of hope carried that question, sending it into the nearly-empty corridor, fragile as glass.

“I think I’m going to be spending a lot of time there in the near future, yes.” Tobio couldn’t contain his smile, the first genuine one he had felt on his face in a very long time.

Hinata’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Rather than answering with his words, Tobio did something he only thought he could do in his dreams. Leaning forward, he captured the stableboy’s lips in a sweet kiss, just the most demure and tender brushing of lips. Finally, just finally, he was getting everything he wanted. 

There would be hoops they needed to jump through, questions that he would need to find answers for. His father wouldn’t get well overnight, no matter how miraculous the medication. And even though he knew in his heart that he loved Shouyou, there were still things he would need to workout should they seriously plan to marry or even court. 

But for now, all he could focus on was the addicting taste of the redhead’s lips, and just exactly how wonderful it felt to be acting on his feelings after so long.

“Tobio,” Hinata whispered breathlessly against his skin after they parted, the sound so soft that Kageyama almost missed over the deafening roar of his beating heart.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go and dance?” 

Suddenly aware of the lively violin music that played from the large ballroom down the hall, Kageyama couldn’t think of anything else he would rather do. He didn’t need a formal introduction; he would go anywhere, so long as they were together. With one final kiss, Kageyama nodded. “Yeah, I would love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you guys enjoy this? I really hope so, especially you, @njess04! I have never written something KageHina centric before and I hope I did those sweet boys justice.
> 
> Sequel? Who knows! Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts! If y'all like it enough, maybe I'll write a follow-up piece.
> 
> Merry Christmas and happy new year!! Sending you all my love! 
> 
> (Please note that I know the medical stuff is total pseudoscience, please don't sue me lol)


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